Avengers: Generation Two
by shadowphoenix55
Summary: Twelve years after Infinity War, the children of the Avengers live. Esra Stark, Ave Strange, Jace and Zayx Odinson, Jason Rogers, Natalie Romanoff, Eva Parker, and Brandon Bannor. Oh - and Yvette Granger, daughter of Hermione Granger. Most of them have never met - they never needed to. Well, until Thanos came back.
1. Chapter 1 - Esra Stark

_Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling wrote Harry Potter, not me. All characters and plot that are in her books are hers. All characters and plot that are in the MARVEL movies are MARVEL's, not mine._

Chapter One - Esra Stark

"Test three hundred and thirty one." Esra Stark said into the camera in front of him, "Time: Five fifteen AM."

The child genius stepped back to reveal something that looked _somewhat_ like an arc reactor. Except for the fact that it wasn't glowing blue. It wasn't glowing any color at all, in fact. It was just sitting there, on the counter, lifeless, hooked up to a nearby mechanism as if someone had tried to save it's life.

"J.A.R.V.I.S., fire it up." Esra commanded.

"One percent power." The A.I. replied. Nothing happened. Esra seemed to deflate a little.

"More."

"Five percent power."

Nada.

"Keep on going."

"Twenty percent power."

"Fourty."

"Sixty."

"Eighty percent power."

 _Finally_ , the arc reactor sparked a bit of blue, but it quickly went away.

"More."

"One hundred percent power."

This time, the reactor glowed, put stopped glowing every few seconds. Esra peered closer at it.

"Well, it's an improvement."

"Test three hundred and thirty three. Time: Ten o'clock PM." Esra announced, looking a bit tired. Two faint dark rings had made their way under his eyes.

"One-" J.A.R.V.I.S. started, but the boy cut him off.

"Just go all the way. Full power." Esra said.

"Are you-"

"Yes, I'm sure, J.A.R.V.I.S." Esra said, a bit exasperatedly, running a hand through his black hair.

"One hundred percent power."

 _BOOM._

Tony Stark awoke to a loud _BOOM_ that seemed to shake his bed. He scrambled, up rubbing his eyes to attempt to get the grogginess away.

"Tony?" Came Pepper's voice from behind him. He turned to see his wife sitting up in bed, looking concerned, "What was that?"

"J.A.R.V.I.S.?" Tony asked, not sure.

"Just a malfunction downstairs, sir, nothing to worr-"

J.A.R.V.I.S.' voice petered out as Tony dashed out of the room.

""It's nothing to worry about, Mrs. Stark." J.A.R.V.I.S. said to Pepper, "I took care of it."

Downstairs, Tony burst into his workshop to see - his workshop completely fine? In fact, more clean than he'd left it last night? The countertop not a mess? _Clean_ , even? What?

"As I was trying to tell you, sir, I took care of it." J.A.R.V.I.S. replied.

"Great." Tony murmured, before going back upstairs and collapsing on his bed, asleep.

 _In Esra's room…_

"Whew." Esra whispered, wincing as he turned over in his bed and revealing thousands of pieces of glass embedded in his skin, "Er- J.A.R.V.I.S?"

"On it."

"Test three hundred and fifty five. Time: Twelve thirty two AM." Esra Stark said into the camera. This time, there was obvious rings under his eyes. He swayed on his feet a bit.

"I think you should go to bed, young sir." J.A.R.V.I.S. said, sounding very concerned for a non - human, "You've been awake for sixty three hours and fifty six minutes. The odds of you falling asleep while a test is going on is -"

"Never give me the odds." Esra announced, steading himself, "One last test. And remember, J.A.R.V.I.S., no telling. I want this to be a surprise for my dad's birthday."

"In all due respect, sir, you said the same thing _last_ year."

Esra waved his hand at the camera, looking away.

"It'll happen this year, I'm sure of it." He said with confidence, "Let's go."

"One percent power."

A fiz of blue light - before it went out, snuffed like a candle.

"Five percent power."

Dim blue light filled the reactor, faltering a bit.

"Ten percent power."

This time, the dim blue light stayed on.

"Twenty percent power."

The blue light became less dim, and Esra looked at the creation with newfound hope.

"Go all the way, J.A.R.V.I.S."

"Are you sure, sir?" J.A.R.V.I.S. asked, "Do you remember test three hundred and thirty three? Mr. and Mrs. Stark awoke. You were almost caught. You had one thousand and twenty three shards embedded into your skin."

"But I wasn't caught." Esra replied, ignoring the last bit with a wince and strapping goggles onto his head, "And of course I remember. It's my new least favorite number. Now let's go."

"One hundred percent power."

There was a _whoosh_ and the arc reactor glowed bright blue, emitting a humming sound. It lit up the whole room with it's light, shining on the face of it's creator. Esra dropped the papers he had picked up and rushed over to it.

"This is it." He announced, touching the reactor with a trembling hand.

He then collapsed, unconscious, his eyelids shutting.

"Oh dear." J.A.R.V.I.S. said, "Well, I tried to tell him."


	2. Chapter 2 - Ava Strange

_Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling wrote Harry Potter, not me. All characters and plot that are in her books are hers. All characters and plot that are in the MARVEL movies are MARVEL's, not mine._

Chapter Two - Ava Strange

I DISCOVERED MY POWERS WHEN I WAS YOUNG. I had wandered away from my fathering a park, and lost myself in the snow. I should have froze to death, but my powers saved me, melting all of the snow in a ten foot radius around me. My father found me there, playing with the dirt. I was only one.

Nothing else happened until I was three and made a stuffed bunny come to me. Then, I was seven, and I saved a bird from drowning. That bird is now my pet. Her name is Fyre. She's named that because she looks quite like the mythical Phoenix.

Now, I am eleven. My father started teaching me how to control my magic last year. I've never really been quite good at it - I haven't leaned to shield yet, and I've been working on it for months. Today, I'm practicing it again with father.

 _Sthwew_

I dodge an incoming spear, and keep on dodging - father is sending thousand of his magical weapons at me, and I know I can't keep up what I'm doing for long. I duck behind a tree - we're in the park - for cover. I hold my hands out in front of me, gathering my courage -

"Mommy look!"

I turn to see a small child, maybe the age of three, pointing at the magic weapons that are flying through the air. His mother is about fifteen feet behind him. Not close enough. No, not close enough to save him from the bomb - not my father's - that is flying at his head.

I jump.

 **BOOM.**

I open my eyes to see quite a scene: my father is running towards me, and so is the child's mother. I am sprawled over the child, covering him from harm. And around us is a shining blue shield, the color of my magic. The remains of the bomb are on the grass outside of the shield, smoking. The smoke rises around the shield, obscuring part of the outside from view. And all I can think is: _What?_

I carefully shuffle off the child, who looks even more confused than I do. He looks at me with wide eyes.

"Are you ok?" I ask him.

"Uh huh." He replies, which I take as a yes.

My father reaches us first. He scoops the bomb remains into his pocket (which I know leads directly to his private office). I lower the shield and stand up just as the mother arrives.

"My baby!" She says, scooping the child up in her arms and cradling him. After she's sure he's alright, she turns to me.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She blabbers, drawing me in to a one armed hug.

I peer out from under her shoulder to see that a crowd has formulated, some of which are newscasters. One snaps a picture of the three of us. _Oh no._

"Your welcome." I manage to get out.

The mother releases me, looking at me in joy, relief, and awe.

"You saved my baby." She says, "What is your name?"

"Ava." I reply.

"Ava." The mother says, "I will never forget you, Ava. Arton, look, honey. This is Ava. She saved you."

"Aba." The child - Arton, attempts to say, "Ava."

"Alright then." Father cuts in, placing a hand on my shoulder, "We'd better get going."

"Bye Arton." I say.

"Bye bye Ava." Arton replies, before I fall through the transporting hole that father created beneath me.

* * *

 _ **MYSTERIOUS CHILD NAMED AVA SAVES TWO YEAR OLD FROM CERTAIN DEATH**_

 _Two Year of Arton Wilson and his mother was at the park at eleven o'clock when he saw "magic" flying through the air. Two people, a man recognized as Infinity War hero Doctor Strange and a child who claimed to be "Ava", were seemingly playing some sort of game - with magic. Ava, spotting a bomb, dove on top of Arton and shielded them from the weapon with a magical blue shield. This Ava saved young Arton from certian death with her quick actions. Doctor Strange quickly came over and left with her, leaving the city with one question: who is this Ava? Some reporters claim her to be a relative of child of Strange, while others suspect Scarlet Witch or even the combination of the two..._

 _Whoever threw the bomb has not been found, but police are on the case…_

"I knew they would bring me into this somehow." I look up to see Aunt Wanda - who is _not_ my relative, by the way _-_ standing above me, reading the article over my shoulder, "Eh, at least you beat Stark to the headlines. Not all of us care about his investment dealings or if he forgot to brush his teeth."

Aunt Wanda laughs, and so do I. I then proceed to leap up and grab her into a hug.

"When did you get here?" I ask.

"Just now." She says. I look behind her to see her bags, "Ready to practice with me?"

"Yes!" I reply, and race off to the training room. Maybe I'll be able to replicate my shield if she's helping me, since father is stuck in his room trying to figure out the origins of the bomb.


	3. Chapter 3 - Yvette Emma Granger

_Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling wrote Harry Potter, not me. All characters and plot that are in her books are hers. All characters and plot that are in the MARVEL movies are MARVEL's, not mine._

Chapter Three - Yvette Emma Granger

 **Author's Notes:** 1) I'm experimenting with longer chapters, so if you prefer one or the other, please let me know! 2) This is EWE. 3) Is there any character you want to narrate the upcoming chapters? Let me know and I can make it happen! 4) I will now be alternating posts from this and my other story, _Hermione Granger and the Twisted Fate_. A summary of that story:

Hermione was an orphan, until the Dursleys came and adopted her. After a few months of living with them and Harry, another adopted boy, a Hogwarts professor comes to take them away. But at Hogwarts, not all is what it seems, especially when you're sorted into Slytherin and your new brother is not... Slytherin!Hermione.

Now, onto the story!

My mother calls me the best thing that happened in here life. A "miracle", or "A gift from Athena". She tells me that I light up the whole room with my smile; with my genius. She loves me enough for two parents.

The rest of the world thinks I'm a curse. Bad fortune bad luck, devil's spawn; I've heard it all. The child who split apart the Golden Trio.

Mother doesn't know this, but I _remember_ the night when _he_ visited. You see, with my bluish green eyes (Mum's mum has blue eyes) and bushy raven black hair, everyone knew. Well, suspected, at least. Mum said it wasn't true. But, I _remember_.

You see, it was late one night. I was about five. It had been right after my birthday, and Mum had come home tired and sad. I had read the paper and knew: they were criticizing her and me again. I was used to it, of course, for I had grown up with the criticism and insults my entire life. But Mother - well, she had something before all of that: a better life.

Anyways, Mum had tucked me to bed an hour before, but I stayed up reading. I was in the middle of a page when I heard the voices from downstairs.

"Harry?" I recognized the name from the paper - the person who had _given_ us all of this trouble in the first place. Well, sort of. So I quietly - ever so quietly - snuck out of my bed, and down the stairs.

"It's me." Came the reply. I peered out in the dark to see Mum and someone else - Harry - standing in the living room, by the fireplace, "The papers were pretty harsh today. I'd thought I'd come by and see how your doing. I haven't seen you in awhile."

"Yeah." Mum said, sitting down on the couch and scooting over to make room. Harry sat down, "You should know - I don't blame you."

"Nor I you." Harry said. There was a silence, before -

"How's Albus doing? And James? Little Lily?" Hermione asked.

"They're all doing well." Harry said happily, "James, is… well, regular old James, of course - I'm still regretting ever introducing him to George. Lily's as happy as ever, she reminds my a lot of her Mum -"

Hermione tensed, and Harry looked sheepish as he saw her face.

"- and Albus - well, he's excited to get his letter. What about Yvette?"

I froze at my name.

"She's doing well." Mum started, her voice wobbly, "But - well, I think the press might be getting to her, Harry. I'm afraid for her future. What if she's forced to live in the muggle world like me?"

"It won't happen." Harry said strongly, "They'll get it eventually. And look on the bright side - she's going to Hogwarts in a few years, and then she'll be able to prove herself. She's already has shown spectacular accidental magic. And she's been reading since the age of three. It'll be the brightest witch of her age all over again!"

"I try Harry, I really do." Mum replied, bursting into tears, "But I can't see it; I can't see the light anymore."

Harry wrapped a sobbing Mother in his arms, giving her a hug.

"Than I will sit with you in the darkness." Harry replied.

The two didn't notice when Yvette Emma Granger crept back upstairs, now convinced that the stories were true.

Yvette Emma Granger. _Ha._ More like Yvette Emma _Potter_.

* * *

"Are you sure?" Mother asks, turning around to look at me.

"Yes." I say again, fighting to keep the exasperation from my voice, "We've gone over this about ten times. It will be easier for me to get onto the train if no one recognizes me, and if you, come, well -"

"Ok, I get it." Mother says will a small smile, "Good luck at Hogwarts then, my little Ravenclaw."

I give mother a weak smile back, before pulling the hood of my robe up so it covers my face.

"Goodbye." I say, before getting out of the car. I walk around to the back and lift my trunk out. I don't have a pet, thankfully. It would draw to much attention.

I briskly walk to the platforms 9 and 10. I pause for just a moment at the barrier before rushing in. I open my eyes - which I hadn't realized I had closed - to see a bustling platform. Above me is the sign _Platform Nine and Three-Quarters_. Directly in front of me is a crowd of people saying their goodbyes and making their way to the train, which is behind them. _The Hogwarts Express_ is written in gold letters on a gleaming red and black train. That's my destination. I duck my head and start weaving through the crowds.

"FRED ARTHUR WEASLEY!"

I stop in my tracks at the noise. That must have been Angelina Weasley, George Weasley's wife. I spot a glimpse of red hair charging my way.

 _Oh no oh no oh no - DO SOMETHING!_

I run.

Dashing in between people, I make my way away from the stop were Fred Weasley the Second is headed. Jumping over a crate of apples (a hassle with a trunk), I stop, panting, in front of the Hogwarts Express.

"Need some help getting on?" Someone asks. I look up to see George Weasley standing there.

 _You've got to be kidding me._

I've heard the quote: out of the frying-pan and into the fire, but this brings me a whole new meaning to it.

"I'm alright." I say, slowly making by way around him and to the train door. I get up to the first step and _pull_ with all my might. The trunk is lifted up. I look around to see I have five more steps to go.

"Here, let me help you." George Weasley says, laughing at my antics. I quickly step out of the way as he lifts my trunk up.

I scramble onto the train as he steps out. I look back to see him smiling.

"You're welcome." He says.

"Oh really? Welcome to where?" I can't help but shoot back. George fake-recoils before smiling.

"To show your face and to say thank you." He replies with a chuckle.

I don't hesitate.

At "show your face", I run.

* * *

I slump onto the bench in the compartment, gasping for breath. _Whew._ That was really, _really_ , close. I push my trunk into a safe spot and then take out a book. I've barely begun reading when I hear the train's whistle and the slow moving of the wheels.

I get one last glimpse of the outside. It's just my luck that my eyes connect with the only ones that are similar to mine in the entire station.

Green meets green.

I know he's recognized me. I can't draw my eyes away in time to miss it.

He _waves_ to me.

I slam the window shut and turn away.

We are _so_ not friends, Harry Potter.

* * *

You would think one would get a break after all of that, but _nooo_. FIve minutes in there's a knock on the door and a girl with long, black hair and brown eyes comes in.

"Everywhere else is full." She says, abit bossily, "Can I sit here?"

"You should really leave." I reply from behind my book, masking my sadness with a bit of a biting tone.

"Why-" The girl sputters indignantly.

"It's for your own good." And it truly is; if she was seen with me, her reputation would be ruined forever.

"Are you threatening me?"

I look up from my book.

"You're a muggleborn." I know it's true when I say it. There's no way andy wizard raised would not know who I am. My hood fell down a while ago.

"So you're one of _those_ people." The girl says, "The rotten, snotty, good for nothing-"

I place my book down and stand up.

" _Leave_."

The girl flees.

* * *

I almost decide to cast a locking charm on the door by the time the next knock comes. I sigh and place my book down.

Scorpius Malfoy waltzes in with two bodyguards, recognizing me immediately on the spot.

 _Oh you've got to be-_

"Yvette Granger." He says.

"Here, present and accounted for." I reply sarcastically, "What's it to you?"

Scorpius looks at me for a while, stunned.

"Well, say something, I haven't got all day." I sneer.

" _That_ ," He says, "Was worthy of a Slytherin."

"So _observant_ of you."

Scorpius laughs, throwing his head back. I wait.

"Father and I always wondered if you truly were the goody-two-shoes your mother was."

"If you're here to make fun of my mather and I, you can leave." I say in a dangerous voice.

"Nope." Scorpius says, sitting down on the opposite bench, "I like you already too much to do _that_."

"Or you're just _scared_." I shoot back, fighting the urge to be kind This is _Scorpius Malfoy_ \- I'm sure he has some sort of mastermind plan his father made up.

"Nope. I saw that girl fleeing from your compartment." Scorpius says, popping a toffee into his mouth and holding out some more to me, "Toffee?"

I grab one (sneaking five more into my robes).

"You were saying?"


	4. Chapter 4 - Jason Rogers

_Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling wrote Harry Potter, not me. All characters and plot that are in her books are hers. All characters and plot that are in the MARVEL movies are MARVEL's, not mine._

Chapter 4 - Jason Rogers

 **Author's Note:** Thanks to all of my reviewers! Here's the next chapter (sorry for the delay)! Read and review!

 _ **BOMBINGS IN NEW YORK INCREASE IN AMOUNT - BOMBER NOT FOUND**_

 _Two Year of Arton Wilson and his mother was at the park at eleven o'clock on a Saturday, September 8th, 2029, when he saw "magic" flying through the air. Two people, a man recognized as Infinity War hero Doctor Strange and a child who claimed to be "Ava", were seemingly playing some sort of game - with magic. Ava, spotting a bomb, dove on top of Arton and shielded them from the weapon with a magical blue shield. This Ava saved young Arton from certian death with her quick actions. Doctor Strange quickly came over and left with her, leaving the city with one question: who is this Ava? Some reporters claim her to be a relative of child of Strange, while others suspect Scarlet Witch or even the combination of the two..._

 _Whoever threw the bomb has not been found, but police still are on the case_ _ **two whole months later**_ _. More bombings have happened in New York after this event, each disappearing before the police and the detectives came onto the scene. People are wondering if this is another alien, or just a common villain. The bomb remains were never found, and everyone in New York is on the watch..._

 _ **WAR CAMPS ACROSS THE WORLD ARE NOW CHOOSING ONE TO BECOME SUPERPOWERED LIKE AVENGER CAPTAIN AMERICA**_

 _War camps across the world that were made after 'Infinity War' to protect the Earth from more aliens like Thanos are now choosing one skilled individual from one camp to become superpowered like Avenger Captain America. After the mysterious bombings in New York, Tony Stark, son of the creator of the original super serum Howard Stark, has recreated his father's work in hopes to better arm Earth…_

Jason Rogers (my last name one I'd made up long ago) looks up at the ceiling of my bunk, passing the newspaper up to my bunkmate, Daron. I was barely lucky enough to get into the army with my skinniness and shortness, being chosen to get injected with the serum… no, I don't stand a chance.

"EVERYONE UP!" Comes the voice of the General through the speakers outside by the flagpole, his voice almost ear-shattering from the distance, "TO THE FLAGPOLE IN A MINUTE, OR NO BREAKFAST FOR YOU, BOYS!"

I sleep in my army clothes just in case of situations like this, so I race out the cabin before one of my roommates can even finish groaning. Thankfully, I'm good at _one_ athletic thing - running. I'm not the fastest in the camp, but 5th place was better than last.

I'm first to the pole, where I can see the General waiting from the dim light of the moon.

The rest of the camp assembles in almost under a minute, with a few stragglers given glares. Then, the General starts his speech:

"Alright. First five who were here, step forward."

I step forward, along with four others: Daron, Kyron, Elijah, and Jonah. I give a mental sigh of relief: only Daron is a tormentor of mine. Kyron is indifferent, Jonah has a mild disliking of me but never really shows it, and Eiljah… well, Elijah is just quiet. All three of them are better than me athletically, of course, but everyone at the camp is.

"You lot are going to New York to be bodyguards for Tony Stark."

And then there is chaos.

"They're getting the serum?"

"WHAT?"

"YOU'RE SAYING ROGERS IS GETTING THE SERUM?"

"QUIET! QUIET! NO BREAKFAST FOR ANY OF YOU!" The General roars. Everyone was quiet, "They're not gettin' the serum. They're just going to be his bodyguards 'cause of the bombing's in NYC."

Everyone else seems more relaxed at that.

* * *

We sit in silence as the van bumps along the potholes on the road. We only left thirty minutes ago, so we are still in Maine, where the camp is. Elijah sits beside me, and Daron and Jonah are across from us. We all sit on benches that are loosely attached to the inside of the van. Our bags are beneath us, underneath the benches. The driver, who is Kyron for now, sits up front. I'm just thankful I didn't have to drive first - you see, I'm only 14. The way I got into the camp was by looking older (barely) and falsifying my identifications. Officially, I'm 16, I got a driver's licence at the camp, but the only vehicles I've drove have been in and around it.

Anyways, we (ACA Daron and Jonah), decided that whoever isn't driving gets to sleep. Since we'll be driving for seven and a half hours (and then arrive at nine in the morning), each person will get to drive for an hour and a half and sleep for six more hours. No one argued against _that_ , for we usually only got to sleep from ten to four, and this would grant us sleep for nine hours.

So I should probably get to sleep.

…...

We arrive in front of the Avengers Tower. Even though I've been gaping at the entire city (I've never been), this is a whole new level of awesomeness. I quickly shut my mouth, however, because someone comes out of the building to meet us.

"Hello." She, a woman with reddish blond hair and formal work clothes on, says, "I assume you are the bodyguards Tony hired?"

"Yes." I reply, holding out my hand. She shakes it,"We're here for Mr. Stark and his family members."

"That would be me and my son than." The woman says, "Pepper Stark."

"Pleased to meet you." I say.

The woman looks around at all of us.

"What are your names, than?"

"Daron Williams."

"Elijah Shrike."

"Kyron Delevark."

"Jonah Smith."

"And Jason Rogers, Mam."

Pepper Stark looks at me with surprise.

"Who are your parents?" She asks.

"Dead." I reply, hanging my head low and pretending to be sadder than I actually am. I don't really remember my parents, and, anyways, I can't have Mrs. Stark looking into my last name. She'll quickly find that it's made up.

Mrs. Stark leads us into the Stark Tower and up the elevator - now _that_ is an interesting first time experience, I tell you - and up to the floor that is eleventh from the top.

"You all will stay here." She says, leading us through a hallway and showing that there are five doors, "You only have to guard us during the day when we are going outside of the tower, or if there is an emergency inside. Tony will tell you when to come or leave."

We all stand there, waiting.

"YOu can go inside your rooms now." She says, and this time, I can't help that my mouth falls open so hard that I think it might touch the floor.

"I-I 'm sorry, mam, did you say _rooms_?" I ask in astonishment.

"Yes." Mrs. Stark replies, "Each of you have one behind the doors. You'll find that they all lead to a kitchen, dining room, and living room you'll have to share. I'll leave you to sort out who gets which one."

She steps back into the elevator and we dash into the rooms.

The one I step into is red. There is a _giant_ bed in the middle, with a dresser off to one side and a bookshelf filled with books on the other. A closet is beside the dresser, and there is two other doors on the last wall. I go through the one closest to the door I came in through and see that there's a private bathroom on the other side, with a bath/shower combination.

Yeah, my mouth is still hanging open.

Through the last door is a living room, dining room, and kitchen that connect to all five of our rooms, as Mrs. Potts promised. I open the kitchen cabinets to see they are stocked with food - and in the refrigerator, there's some as well. In the living room, there's a cabinet full of games - none of which I know how to play - and…

 _A TV._

I've never seen one in my life. I get closer to it, marveling at how thin the black screen is.

"Wow." Comes Kyron's voice from behind me, "Spectacular, isn't it?"

"Oh, absolutely." I reply at the same time, Elijah, who just came in, says:

"Yes."

The three of us are attempting to turn the TV on when Daron comes in and sees us.

"Never seen a TV before?" He asks a sneer, "Well, _I_ had a better house than this at my old home. I'm goin' back when I finish my time at the army. You lot don't have a place to go, apparently."

I don't know about Elijah, but I know for sure that Kyron is an orphan, like I am.

"Shut your mouth." One of them says beside me, and I turn to see that it's, surprisingly, Elijah.

"Whatcha gonna do?" Daron taunts.

"If you haven't noticed, there's three of us and one of you." Kyron replies shortly.

"Aw, come on, chu really think Rogers counts as anythin'?" Daron asks, "And plus, I have Jonah."

Jonah, who came in a few seconds ago, looks at all of us.

" _Right_?" Daron says dangerously.

Jonah's eyes flick from the three of us to Daron and back.

" _RIGHT?_ " Daron shouts, stepping towards Jonah menacingly.

"Stop threatening him, WIlliams." I say, "He doesn't have to pick a side."

Daron whips around to me.

"Uh, yeah he does! _My_ side, you orphaned i-"

 _Crack._

Daron lies on the floor, holding his gushing nose. Jonah stands above him, his hands clenched into fists.

"I'm an orphan too." Jonah says, "So get out of here."

Daron staggers to his feet and flees the room.


	5. Chapter 5 - Esra Stark

**Chapter Five - Esra Stark**

 **Author's Note:** Thanks to my new beta reader Presgamer1 for editing this! Also, other characters will have POVs in this story, but they will be introduced later. Here is chapter five! Read and review!

"Whyyyyy cant we just gooo to a resturaaaant?" I say, pulling out my last trick; the puppy eyes. My mother looks at me, hesitating for a moment, seemingly indecisive, before replying:

"Because we are going to have a nice meal at home with just the three of us."

 _Nooooooooooooo._

"But you shouldn't have to cook on your birthday..."

Ok, to be perfectly honest, I would normally be just fine with my mom's plan, but she wants to cook, and, to be quite honest, her cooking is _awful_. So puppy eyes it is…

"I'm fine with cooking." My mother says.

" _P-please..._ " I whimper, looking up at her. She deflates, giving in.

"Alright, go get your fath-"

"Right away!"

 _YESSSSSS!_

I race down the stairs into Dad's workroom, knocking on the glass to get his attention. Currently, he looks like he's having a debate with J.A.R.V.I.S. - again. He's pacing back and forth between his computers, tossing stuff onto tabes. He looks up after a minute and grins at my thumbs-up.

"It worked?" he asks as he exits the room. I nod vigorously.

He gives me a grin and ruffles my hair.

"I really don't understand how you do that kiddo," He says, "I mean, the puppy eyes don't work for _me_."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, we stand outside the Avengers Tower with a slew of guards around us. They all look young - maybe eighteen to twenty, except for a smaller, skinnier one, that's probably only sixteen. I'm used to having one guard around, usually, but this seems kind of overboard.

"What's this?" Dad asks, voicing my question. He points to the group, who are now standing in a bunch.

"We're here to protect you and your family, Mr. Stark." The youngest one, who has blond hair and blue eyes, says. Another guard, who ended up behind him, shifts away from the group as a whole. He has brown hair, brown eyes, and a chubby face. He's kind of bland, except for the fact that his nose is bandaged - if you call a swath of messy tape bandaged. Maybe they got into a fight, I think. I kind of which I'd seen that.

Dad's eyebrows furrow.

"Do I know you?" He asks, looking at the blond guard with narrowed eyes, "I feel like we've met before."

"Not to my knowledge, sir." The guard replies.

Dad snaps his fingers.

"Yep!" He says, "I know. You're a J.A.R.V.I.S."

The guard looks confused.

"His AI." I inject. The guard looks at me as if I spoke German or something. At least that's better than the _you're an alien_ look that he was giving Dad a second ago. I sigh, "Artificial intelligence. Basically a computer that talks to you, except there's no computer."

Nada. It's like I'm talking to someone who's been hiding under a rock for ninety years. _Seriously_ , what do they teach these people at the guard schools or wherever they go?

"Aha!" Dad shouts. We all turn to stare at him, "Never mind, you're not J.A.R.V.I.S. You're the Capsicle!"

"Captain America." I translate. All of the guards' eyes widen in recognition, as if I've spoken of their deity.

"So, what's your name?" Dad continues, ignoring the other guards, who look put out he isn't talking to them.

"Jason Rogers." He replies. Dad's eyes widen comically. He turns to Mom.

"Capt. didn't have a kid, right? 'Cause if he did, I'm looking right at him."

Mom shakes her head.

"No, Tony, and Jason here is too old for that anyways." She looks at the startled guard - Jason, his name is - "Sorry about Tony."

"Hey!"

* * *

We go to a small, cozy Italian restaurant I've never been to before - I think Mom picked it out because there's a grand total of five other people here, and she doesn't like attention. My dad loves it, and I'm the mix of the two - indifferent. The guards are eating at a table next to ours except for the blond one, Jason, who is standing beside our table and is looking attentively around, as if some assassin is going to jump out at any moment. I start thinking of him as the leader (or the Captain, if you want to be funny) of the group. He's the only one who I've seen talk so far anyways. When we first arrived, he politely (I am starting to wonder if he's always polite to everyone) but firmly told the hostess, who was looking at us with a gape, to please leave them alone other than serving them, because it is Mom's birthday.

As usual, we were quickly shown to the best table; a small, round table by the window with a cushy red bench around it. I'm currently (uncomfortably) snuggled between Mom and Dad, not listening to there conversation.

"Esra. Esra. Esra!"

Oops.

"Yes, Mom?" I reply, looking at the person who was calling my name.

"What are you going to get?" She asks. I look at my untouched menu.

"Uh… pizza?"

Dad shakes his head in silent laughter, opening the menu in front of me,

"Nice guess, kid, but you might actually want to look first." He says.

I end up ordering pizza anyways (take _that_ , Dad). Mom gets Ravioli or something like that, and Dad has pizza as well, after asking if they had any Shawarma and getting scolded at by Mom. I, meanwhile, watch them argue with a grin, making sure they can't see that I have brought out a camera that is videotaping the whole thing. Out of the corner of my eye, I see that Jason has noticed it, and looks unsure if he should say anything. I shake my head vigorously at him, giving him a wide grin. He stared at me for a moment, and I think he's going to tell, but he just turns back to looking at the restaurant. I don't think he meant for me to see, but I notice that he has a small smile on his face when he turns away.

Anyways, Mom wins the argument, as usual, so Dad ends up ordering a pepperoni pizza. The waitress (who is still gaping) leaves.

"So, happy birthday, Mom!" I say (having quickly stashed away the camera). Mom gives me a smile and squeezes me tighter with her arm, which is wrapped around me. I gasp for breath as Dad makes a comment about suffocation. To be honest, I probably should have expected that.

After letting me go, the conversation topic turns elsewhere. I think about the arc reactor I made, and how I am going to put it into my new design - and I am totally _not_ naming my suit an Iron Man suit, because it is _not_ made of iron (mostly, at least). The designs are flowing through my head, and I stare off into the distance, thinking freely.

"Esra Collins Stark!"

Yikes.

"Yes, Mom?" I ask, looking up at her. She shakes her head in annoyance.

"You are just like your father."

"I am not taking that as an insult, right now, for the sake of both Esra and your birthday." Dad says, "But seriously, kid, I don't want you to jump into a fight like I did - for one, you haven't got a suit-"

My last thought is a smug _but I will soon_ , and then -

 **BOOM.**

* * *

I open my eyes to see dust. When I heard the bomb go off outside, I thought I was a goner. But I don't think I'm injured - except there's a giant weight on top of me. I squirm into a position where I can see better.

The whole building is demolished. The walls and ceiling lie around me in ruins. And, on top of me is Jason the guard, who must have jumped on me when the bomb went off. I see what's on top of him and gasp. A piece of the ceiling is imbedded in his back, blood pooling around it. It would have demolished me. I squirm out from underneath him and realize my sneakers and lower pants are bloody.

 _Oh no oh no oh no..._

I pull as hard as I can, and the rubble comes out with a squelch. I have the piece to the side, thankful it's relatively light, and fall to my knees beside the person who saved my life. I grab part of a shredded tablecloth off to the side and wrap it around the gaping wound, swearing from now on that I'll take medical lessons, because I don't even know if I'm doing something right. After a moment, the tablecloth is bloodstained as well. My mind spins, and all I can see is his blood. I didn't even know him that well. I didn't… I didn't…

I shake myself, thinking, _I must not go into shock. I must not go into shock._

After a moment, I look up to see a group of people is looking at the scene.

"CALL AN AMBULANCE!" I scream at them, my voice sounding hoarse and shaky, "SOMEONE! HE'S INJURED! SOMEONE DO SOMETHING!"

A tall man with black hair whips out a cell phone and starts dialing. Three others come and help me lift him up. I see out of the corner of my eye people rushing over to others, and it hits me.

 _Mom. Dad._

I race to the nearest person - an arm that sticks out under a giant boulder at an odd angle. The person under there is probably crushed. _Please, tell me that isn't Mom or Dad, please, please…_

I nearly trip over the next thing - a red, metallic leg. I look down again and realize that it's Dad's suit. And in it must be Dad. Dad dad dad dad daddy dad dad dad -

There is a groaning of metal and the boulder that was on top of him is pushed off. Dad must have done it with his suit - which is dented every which way, but still functioning. He stands up, and I grapple him in a hug.

"Dad, you're ok, Daddy you're ok..." I don't realize that I'm crying until I'm trying to talk through my tears.

"Where's Pepper?" Dad's voice, which sounds crazed, asks, "WHERE'S PEPPER?" He pushes out of my arms and runs around the boulders, looking around frantically and shouting, "PEPPER! PEPPER WHERE ARE YOU?! PEPPER!"

"Tony." Comes a small voice, and Dad and I rush over to her. She's laying down on the ground, and has shards of glass sticking all over her body and face. A medic - the ambulance must have arrived, the small part of my brain that is still functioning thinks - comes with a stretcher and takes her away. They come back for Dad and I later, and give me something that knocks me out in seconds.

The darkness that follows is welcome, for it drives out the guilt.

Because it was

 _all_

 _my_

 _fault._


	6. Chapter 6 - Ava Strange

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling wrote Harry Potter, not me. All characters and plot that are in her books are hers. All characters and plot that are in the MARVEL movies are MARVEL's, not mine.

 **Chapter Six - Ava Strange**

Author's Note: Read and review! Here's chapter six!

 _ **IRON MAN AND HIS FAMILY BOMBED AT A RESTAURANT**_

 _Tony Stark (or Iron Man, as the civilians call him) was celebrating his wife's, Virginia ("Pepper") Potts', birthday at a restaurant when the restaurant was bombed. Ten are dead, including four of the five guards Mr. Stark brought with him. The fifth guard, who was severely injured but is expected to recover, saved Esra Stark, Tony Stark's son's, life. The sole survivors are the Stark family, including an injured Pepper Potts, and the guard_ …

I look up from my newspaper to see Aunt Wanda, her face eye contacts, wig, and all, staring at me from beside me in the taxi. We didn't take the magical way because Father said that we were going incognito to avoid attention.

"So why do we have to go and see _him_ again?" Aunt Wanda asks, speaking of Stark. Father turned around from the front seat, his fake blue eyes and red hair looking quite odd on his face.

"Emily, I know that we parted with him on bad terms," Father starts, speaking Aunt Wanda's code name, "But I need to interrogate him and his family about the bombing."

Apparently (and I say apparently because I pieced the bits of information I pried from Aunt Wanda together), when the Avengers saw each other last, there was a big fight about what to do with the Infinity Stones. The Avengers wanted to assign guardians to each stone, but to hide them in different places than before. Of course, Stark wanted to be a guardian himself and thought that every Avenger should know where the stones were and who was their guardian. Aunt Wanda, Father, and some others, including Captain America and the Black Widow wanted one Avenger for each to choose a guardian, and only that Avenger and the guardian would know the location of the stone. There was a scuffle in which Father's team won. The Avengers split, not to see each other again.

Until now.

We step out of the taxi, and I faintly wonder what Esra Stark is like. I've never met any of the other of the Avengers nor their children because of the fight. Father kind of assumes that he'll be as bad as Stark, but I know that he doesn't dislike Stark as much as Aunt Wanda does… I don't know why, actually.

We duck our heads as we enter the hospital, our hats covering our faces, even though we changed some of our appearances. I chose blue eyes and kept my red hair like Father's. My actual hair is a bit longer than shoulder length and is fiery red. My eyes, however, are brown. I assume I look a lot like my mother. I don't know who she is - Father never told me, no matter how much prying or wheedling I did.

A few minutes of convincing later, we step into the hospital room where the Starks are. Tiny Stark looks up at us from the hospital bed.

"Who…" He says. We, in unison, take our disguises off. Stark's mouth hangs open.

"Strange?" He asks after a moment, "Maximoff?"

"Stark." Wanda replies with a bite in her tone.

Stark turns to me.

"So you finally had a kid, huh?" He says.

"I'm not her mother." Aunt Wanda responds harshly, her accent coming through.

"She's got your hair color." He replies. Aunt Wanda scoffs.

"As do many others on this planet." She rebutts.

"Yeah, right." Stark says.

"I can _hear_ you, you know." I interrupt sarcastically, "I'm not deaf."

Stark lets out a chuckle.

"She has your temper." He says to Aunt Wanda. We (Father, Aunt Wanda, and I) sigh.

"We are not related." Father, Aunt Wanda, and I say at once, each speaking of different people. Stark gives us an amused look.

"Yeah, rig-" He starts.

"Shut it." The three of us say in unison.

"-ht." Stark finishes.

There's a silence in which I look around the room. Stark is sitting up on his cot, though he looks rather bruised. A boy who looks like him - his son, Esra, he must be - is asleep on the cot next to him. Stark Jr. looks unharmed, although his sheets and pillow are damp, borderline wet. His face looks to be so too - I realize that he probably was crying. I feel a stab of pity for the boy, but quickly push it away. He must just be sad that his fancy clothes got ripped or something, I think, but I immediately feel guilty about my thoughts afterward.

Next to Stark Jr. is lays an unconscious teen who looks to be around sixteen years old. He has blond hair and blue eyes. He looks to be the most injured of the trio. I faintly wonder where Pepper Potts is.

"Who's that?" I ask the room, pointing to the blond boy.

"The guard." Stark's tone seems to grow much more serious and sad, "Jason Rogers. He saved my son's life."

" _Rogers_?" Father asks, "He's not related to Steve, is he?"

"Not his son, apparently." Stark says, "But maybe a relative… they look too similar to not be."

There's a silence once again.

"So why are you here, then?" Stark asks, "We haven't seen each other for thirteen years. Never had a reason to, really. Why now?"

Father looks at Stark in silence for a moment.

"Because of the bombings." He finally says, "I took some remains and have been studying them. They're not human-made."

He says the last part in a whisper, as if I'm not supposed to hear. I listen in, anyways.

"You think it's alien?" Stark says, his tone clearly saying _not again_.

Father looks to me.

"We'll talk later." He replies, "There's cameras."

"And me." I cut in, "I know you don't want me to hear, Father. Do you think that I didn't know why you never let me see the remains of the bomb?"

Father freezes for a moment, before attempting to cover:

"Ava-"

"Save it." I grumble, plopping down on the chair nearest to me.

Stark roars with laughter, before grimacing, holding his hand to his chest.

"Stark?" I ask, concern for a creature overcoming my dislike for him, "Stark are you-"

"Fine." He wheezes, "I'm fine."

I give him a disbelieving look.

"No, rea-" Stark starts, but is quickly cut off by a scream.

All eyes turn to his son, who is not sitting up on his cot, awake.

"IT'S ALL MY FAULT!"

 _What?_

"I wanted to go to the restaurant - I convinced Mom - Jason could've died - he might die - it's all my fault - what about Mom - Dad thank goodness you're ok - wait where is she - where is he - where are _they_ \- wait no he's here - has he woken up - has she - oh goodness -"

"Hold on-" I start, confused.

"- Jason's his name, right? And the others are d-d-dead? Wait no - yes - oh no -"

"SHUT IT!" I cry, and Stark Jr. immediately shuts his mouth.

"Ava Strange." I say to his confused look, "Daughter of the titled Dr. Strange. And _no,_ Wanda isn't my mother. Anyways, _honestly_ , don't ramble like that. No one can understand a word you're saying. Try speaking _English_ , perhaps?"

Stark chuckles in the background.

"Wha..." Esra Stark says, clearly having a mental overload.

"Speak. Clearly." I say slowly and condensing.

"It's not your fault, son." Stark Sr. pipes up, taking the moment as an opportunity, "I wanted to go, too. And _you_ didn't choose the restaurant."

"And I'm quite sure you didn't _bomb_ it." I add.

Esra watches us, silent.

"B-but..." He stammers.

"Get over your mindset that the world revolves around you and start trying to find who actually did it." I say.

This seems to spark something in Stark Jr.'s mind.

"You're saying I should get revenge." He says.

"Hmm..." I say, thinking, "No."

"I'm saying you should _avenge_."


	7. Chapter 7 - Yvette Emma Granger

**Chapter Seven - Yvette Emma Granger**

 **Author's Note:** Read and review!

"I've done this job for centuries,

On every student's head I've sat.

Of thoughts I take inventories,

For I'm the famous Sorting Hat.

I've gave this message once before,

And it is needed now as much as then,

So this year, perhaps once and for all,

I'll say it yet again:

For in times of old, when I was new,

And Hogwarts barely started,

The founders of our noble school

Thought never to be parted.

United by a common goal,

They had the selfsame yearning

To make the world's best magic school

And pass along their learning.

"Together we will build and teach"

The four good friends decided.

And never did they dream that they

Might someday be divided.

For were there such friends anywhere

As Slytherin and Gryffindor?

Unless it was the second pair

Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw,

So how could it have gone so wrong?

How could such friendships fail?

Why, I was there, so I can tell

The whole sad, sorry tale.

Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those

Whose ancestry's purest."

Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose

Intelligence is surest."

Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those

With brave deeds to their name."

Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot

And treat them just the same."

These differences caused little strife

When first they came to light.

For each of the four founders had

A house in which they might

Take only those they wanted, so,

For instance, Slytherin

Took only pure-blood wizards

Of great cunning just like him.

And only those of sharpest mind

Were taught by Ravenclaw

While the bravest and the boldest

Went to daring Gryffindor.

Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest

and taught them all she knew,

Thus, the houses and their founders

Maintained friendships firm and true.

So Hogwarts worked in harmony

For several happy years,

But then discord crept among us

Feeding on our faults and fears.

The Houses that, like pillars four

Had once held up our school

Now turned upon each other and

Divided, sought to rule.

And for a while it seemed the school

Must meet an early end.

What with duelling and with fighting

And the clash of friend on friend.

And at last there came a morning

When old Slytherin departed

And though the fighting then died out

He left us quite downhearted.

And never since the founders four

Were whittled down to three

Have the Houses been united

As they once were meant to be.

And now the Sorting Hat is here

And you all know the score:

I sort you into Houses

Because that is what I'm for.

I've sung this tale once before,

When Hogwarts was in danger

From external, deadly foes.

And, yes, together,

The four houses arose.

After they had won, however,

They split again,

And now, it seems,

The divide shall never end.

And though condemned I am to split you

Still I worry that it's wrong,

Though I must fulfil my duty

And must quarter every year

Still I wonder whether sorting

May bring the end I fear.

For our Hogwarts is not in danger

From external foes.

Instead, look within our school,

And you'll find our woes.

And we must unite inside her

Or we'll crumble from within.

I have told you, I have warned you...

Let the Sorting now begin."

The hall is silent as the hat stills. The first-years watch it with confusion, waiting for more. I look to Scorpius, who turned out to not be as bad as I thought. He shakes his head before watching the hat.

"Ehem." Professor Sprout, who is holding a list in her hands and is standing beside the hat, "Adams, Kyran!"

An embarrassed-looking boy rushes over to the stool besides Professor Sprout and the hat, tripping over his own shoelaces in the process. There's a few chuckles, and I bite my lip to stop myself from laughing out loud. I remember that I still have my hood up, and everyone will know who I am once my name is called. Suddenly, I don't have the urge to laugh anymore.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat shouts, interrupting my thoughts, and the house wearing yellow ties bursts into applause as the boy, still red-faced, makes his way over to his new house, shoelace still untied.

"Bones, Emily!" Professor Sprout calls. I watch as the adopted daughter of Susan Bones disappears partway underneath the hat, which is clearly too big for most first-years:

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Cornfoot, Leon!" This boy seems more confident as he walks up to the hat. After only a few moments -

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"The whole lot of them must be duffers." Scorpius, who must have walked over to me while I was watching, whispers. I mask a frown, thinking of how highly Mother had spoken of some Hufflepuffs, such as Susan Bones and Cedric Diggory.

"Entwhistle, Jason!" A minute passes, two -

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Finally." Scorpius whispers, but I'm not paying attention. My hands are drenched in sweat, for there's only one letter after E that's before G -

"Finch-Fletchley, Tom!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Scorpius sighes.

"Goyle, Crabbe!"

I faintly remember him as a sort of not very smart bodyguard of Scorpius' that showed up late to our compartment. There's a quiet murmur as the hat seems to have a debate with Goyle -

"SLYTHERIN!"

Scorpius mutters something as the green table claps for Goyle, but I don't hear him, for I'm next.

"Granger, Yvette!"

The hall falls dead silent. I take a deep breath before walking out of the crowd of surprised-looking first-years, some of which who flinch away from me.

I make my way up to the stool and sit down.

"Take your hood off, deary." Professor Sprout says, but the way she says _deary_ I know that she doesn't really mean it.

I flip my black hood off, and the majority of the hall gasps as I stare them down with my electrifying eyes (they were, at that moment, Avada-Kedavra green - they switched from color to color sometimes).

The hat went over my head.

 _Now what do we have here?_

 _If you sort me into Slytherin, I will set you alight and dance on your ashes._

 _Oh my, that sounds awfully vengeful. And ambitious, I tell you. No one has succeeded in doing_ that _before._

 _Hat, do you understand that that would make the rumors that I'm a devil seem more probable to the majority of the world?_

 _Yes._

 _THEN ARE YOU TRYING TO MAKE MY LIFE MISERABLE?_

… _You can't make them think differently, Yvette._

 _I'm sorry?_

 _You can't. They'll think what they think and you won't be able to change a thing._

 _But… but…_

 _Maybe a few, you would. But your life would be the same._

…

 _So why not be go to the one place they might accept you?_

…

 _Why not go where you will succeed?_

…

 _Why not go to the place that will make them fear you?_

…

 _Fear leads to power, my friend._

 _What about Mother?_

 _You cannot make them think of her good, either._

…

…

 _Then do it._

"SLYTHERIN!"

The hall bursts into murmurs.

"Knew the illegitimate daughter of a Mudblood would get into slimy Slytherin..."

"Thank goodness we didn't get her..."

"And there goes the devil..."

BANG.

There is an abrupt silence as every single person in the hall turns to the source of the noise, a person that is now surrounded with a killing curse green aura. A person who looks as if they're about to tear the closest student into pieces, eyes narrowing at the crowd. Somebody who is lifted up in the air by the green aura and is dropped like a ragdoll.

Me.


End file.
